


Lieutenant Colonel By Your Side, Sir

by icapricant



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Depression, I ship it way too much, M/M, Okay y'all can read now, Whamilton - Freeform, bye bye, holy moly, it gets sad, p u r e, pure fluff, ~Lynnigade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-28 07:58:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11413569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icapricant/pseuds/icapricant
Summary: General George Washington and his troops are stranded at Valley Forge with a snow storm rolling toward them, forcing them to stay with nothing but large, thin tents, cots, few warm clothing items and blankets, little food, and each other. They don't know how long the storm will last, but it didn't seem like it would end any time soon.George is trying to get work done at his make-shift desk in his tent, when he gets a letter that seemed to be rush-delivered by Charles Lee, his whole world crumbles.The only person that can help him through the everlasting pain and grief is Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton. The only man he can depend on the most to lift him out of the hell he's fallen into





	1. Chapter 1

The snow raged on outside of the General’s tent, the wind howling through the night as the small, frozen flakes of water seemed to fall to the ground so fast that it was nearly impossible to see your hand in front of you. George Washington sat at his makeshift pine desk, a moth-eaten scarf wrapped around his neck, and a wool blanket around his broad, defined shoulders, to try and keep in as much warmth as possible in the below freezing weather. Sitting by his side was Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton, or, as the rest of Washington’s men called him, George’s second. The pair were busying themselves with letters to Congress and family, making sure every word connected and fit together perfectly. They had yet to receive the extra troops and weapons that Congress had promised them, hence Alexander writing a formal, but very angry letter to Congress.

George tried his hardest to focus on his letter to Martha Washington, his beloved wife, but his attention seemed to be traced to Alexander and how close together the two were. He could feel the heat radiating off of his aide, and every so often, Alex would be generous enough to lightly brush his elbow against the General's while he was carefully, but quickly, stroking his ink-filled quill across the delicate paper that would soon be sent off to Congress. All of Washington's attention soon averted to studying the young Lieutenant Colonel as he furiously but passionately laced together words to form sentences. Alexander could feel his General's gaze averted to watching him, and he could feel his heartbeat start to speed up as he forbid a pink tint to arise on his pale cheeks.

"Sir?" Alexander questioned, looking up from his handy-work to meet gazes with George. Washington said nothing as he could feel his face heat up profusely, and continued to analyze every small crevice of his aide's face. "Your Excellency, are you feeling well? You're not catching a cold, are you?" Hamilton questioned again, snapping the General out of his trance.

"Ah- no, I'm fine," George replied, swallowing down a lump that had formed in this throat whilst watching the younger man. Alexander studied him a bit longer, taking into account his slightly flushed face and wavery tone. To him, the General was most definitely not okay. It didn't make it any better that it seemed to be past midnight. Hamilton got up and leaned over to meet gazes with the seemingly sick General. Washington hitched his breath as his aide gently pressed the back of his cool, soft hand to his forehead. It certainly wasn't hot to the point that the General was catching a fever in this outrageous weather, but Alexander could slowly feel the surface heat up a bit as George's cheeks flushed again. 

"Perhaps your work may be postponed until tomorrow, while you should retire to bed," Alexander murmured, coaxing his Excellency out of his chair and toward his cot. George didn't protest as he followed Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton, carefully sinking down on his almost sand-paper like bed that was covered with thin blankets. the General tensed up when Alex started undoing his coat, gently pulling it off of George's shoulders and draping it over a wooden chair that sat nearby.

"Alex--" George breathed once the younger man began to remove his collar with swift movements. A deep flush covered his Washington's cheeks as Alex pulled back to look at him.

"Sir?" Hamilton responded, no trace of a blush on his cheeks. George stared at him for a moment, before clearing his throat.

"If you're so intent on seeing me to bed, perhaps you should abide by your own wishes as well." Alexander's eyes widened a bit, but he nodded as he placed the General's cravat on the same chair that his jacket resided. The young man soon stood up, preparing to bid his Excellency goodnight, before a cold, strong hand grabbed his own and pulled him back down. He met gazes with his General, and for the first time tonight, a flamingo pink blush appeared on his cheeks.

"Sir?" It was now Alexander's turn to feel his heart thump like crazy and to feel his face heat up significantly. George hummed softly and began to unbutton the Lieutenant's jacket and cravat. Understanding his Excellency's silent wishes, Alexander removed his jacket and cravat, placing them on the same chair that the General's clothing resided on. He removed his own boots after that, looking at George for his next action. Alex gasped as the General pulled him onto his cot, wrapping his warm, strong arms around the younger man's waist and pulling the two close to each other.

Alex was tense as he lay in bed with his General, starting at the tent wall in front of him. He gasped softly as he felt soft lips gently kissing up and down his neck, and now warm fingers rubbing soothing circles on his stomach. He saw what George was trying to do. He wanted Alexander to relax. And so that's what the young man did, relaxing all the tense muscles and enjoying the seemingly loving pecks from his General. He eventually turned his body so he was looking at George. "Sir, why?"

"I'm not letting you retreat to your own tent in this weather, Alex. Besides," George started into Alexander's hazelnut eyes like it was the last thing he would look at before he died. "It's better having you here to lull me to sleep." Alex's face flushed deep red, though he didn't stop gazing at his General's face. 

"Sir--"

"We are not in a battle setting. You might consent to call me George, Alex."

"George..." Alexander muttered, drifting off in his own thoughts. I need to kiss you. I need to feel your soft lips against mine. I desire to feel your gentle touch tracing every crevice of my frail figure. I desire you, George. His thoughts said. So, without one doubt, he connected his lips with his General's, letting their movements dance wonderfully in sync as George pulled Alex closer to him. 

This is utter bliss. Please, take my breath away. Force me to pull back for air, only to capture me in another kiss. I need you, Alexander. George thought as he gently gripped Alexander's chocolate brown, shoulder length hair to pull him even closer. 

After what seemed like an eternity of nothing but enrapturing kissing, Alexander pulled away to gasp for air, before cuddling into George's warm chest. George smiled softly and hugged Alex to his own body, resting his chin atop the younger man's head.

"Good night, Alexander. I love you, ever so dearly. Please do get well slumber," George said gently as he closed his eyes and evened out his breathing.

"Good night, George. Do not underestimate how dearly I hold you, my love," Alex replied, letting his Excellency's slow, easy heartbeat lull him to slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning was very slow, seeing that the storm was still as powerful as ever. No one could exit their tents, which meant that George and Alexander were stuck in the same tent. That wasn't a bad thing of course, but the tent didn't seem to hold any food to last them all day. The duo was continuing the work that they had set off last night before a distressed young man covered in snow barged into the space that the General and the Lieutenant Colonel were sharing. Alexander recognized the man as Charles Lee, a young general from the United Kingdom. He was clearly shaken by the snow storm that raged on outside, and he seemed to be catching a cold.

"Your Excellency!" He gasped, straightening his back and saluting. George, who was already sitting up straight with flawless posture rose an eyebrow.

"What business do you have barging like that, Lee?" his Excellency demanded. He hated it when people barged in, especially without prior notice.

"My deepest apologies, Sir, but I have a rush-delivered letter from Mount Vernon for you," Charles replied, catching his breath for a moment before approaching George's desk and handing it to him. Alexander let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. It was probably from Martha Washington, his General's beloved wife. George still looked irritated but relaxed a bit.

"It's from Martha. I'll read it later," the General hummed, nodding slightly. Charles hitched his breath and shook his head, picking up the letter again.

"No, It's not, Sir." George's mocha brown gaze snapped open, and he looked at Lee sharply. A lump formed in Alexander's throat. He knew exactly what it was. He had gotten the same thing when he first heard about his brother's death. Hamilton placed a gentle hand on his Excellency's shoulder as if to offer comfort and support. As if Charles could read Washington's mind, he opened it and begun to read.

"Dear General George Washington,  
On December 22, 1778, Martha Washington died from a fatal fever that had struck her only a few days prior to her catching of it. She was found in the snow with a closed letter in hand, addressed to you. For convenience, I have enclosed the letter along with this one. For now, she is buried in the Tombs in Mount Vernon, Virginia, until her family comes for her remains. I, as well as Congress, send you condolences.  
Sincerely,  
Angelica Schuyler"

Alexander could see that George was visibly tense. He couldn't imagine how hard this must be for him. Charles Lee let out a shaky breath and set the letter back down on the desk. The General stood up sharply.

"Leave my tent," He ordered dangerously, his eyes dark and filled with sorrow and rage. Both Charles and Alexander flinched at his tone. He had never spoken like that before.

"Sir-" Charles tried, but he was cut off by a shout.

"Leave my tent NOW. I want you out of my sight!" George spat angrily. Lee scampered out without another word. Alex stood up along with his Excellency, placing a firm hand on his shoulder again. George whipped his head around to look at Alex, anger leaving his eyes when he saw the concern and sorrow in Alex's.

"George," Hamilton spoke softly. He himself was fighting back tears. Martha had been like a mother figure to him, and he loved her dearly, even if it was just platonic. "This... This is hard. Are you alright?" Washington stood still for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed and his bottom lip quivered. He didn't need to speak any words for the Lieutenant Colonel to understand. Alexander pulled the bigger soldier into a tight hug, burying his face in the General's coat. It was hard for him, he couldn't imagine how hard it was for George.

Washington wrapped his strong arms around the smaller man that had him in an embrace, burying his face in the crook of Alexander's neck. His chest heaved with silent sobs as hot tears rolled down his cheeks and onto Alexander's coat and cravat. Alexander only hugged the other man tighter once he felt the tears, refusing to let his own slip. George seemed to notice this, and he spoke gently. "Alexander, it's alright to cry. I know how close you were to Martha," he muttered, hugging Alex closer to him.

Alex's breath hitched in his throat before he let a few salty drips of tears roll down his cheeks and onto the general's coat. That's how the two stood for what seemed like hours, the sorrow in the air was so heavy that Alex was sure that it would crush him. They soon parted, staring at each other as the last of their tears rolled down their cheeks.

It wasn't long until the realization that George's wife was gone forever sunk into the general's mind. Once he finally understood, his eyes went cold. He couldn't deal with the grief. He didn't want to be reminded of his wife. He didn't want the pain to tighten his chest any more than it already was. He gazed down at his Lieutenant Colonel, anger filling his head. The young man had been close to his wife. The young man reminded him of his wife, in many ways more than one.

"Hamilton," George growled, straightening his posture. Alex could immediately tell something was wrong. He never used his last name when they weren't in a battle setting, especially with that much anger.

"Sir," Alex responded, his voice weak. He could feel the newfound anger radiating off of his general.

"Get out of my tent. I don't want to ever see your face unless I'm giving you a direct command," George suddenly snapped, his voice hoarse from anger. Alex flinched but said nothing as he saluted and gathered his things, quickly making his way out of the tent. The snow and wind were strong enough to freeze his new-coming tears away. The young man quickly made his way to his own, much smaller tent, placing his things down on his own desk, before collapsing onto his cot. He let fresh sobs roll out of him as he held himself in a tight ball, gripping his hair so hard that he was sure that it would rip out. He didn't want to even try to comprehend why the General, no, the man who he had fallen in love with was so mad at him. He just wanted to fall asleep and wake up the next morning to George curled around him, his breaths even and peaceful. 

But he knew he couldn't have that.

For there was a whole, long day awaiting him.


End file.
